Mortal Kombat: Tournament of Flame
by D.S. McElyea
Summary: The tournament of Mortal Kombat has seen several turns throughout its writings. Truth is, it has been stale. Liu Kang has been the focus for far too long. There are other fighters to be featured, other champions who may claim the stage. Liu Kang has had his show long enough, now we focus on an arguably better fighter than Liu Kang could barely compare to. The actor, Johnny Cage.
1. Prologue

A young boy walked into the school playground, alone. The time was near the start of the school year, autumn was near birth. The slight breeze blew by his face as he could smell the cool airs of fall arise. He continued walking, now in complete harmony with the season. He gazed at the sky, still a dying summer sun. He reached into his pocket, and shut his eyes. He looked down, "Ah, shoot," the young boy said, "I forgot them again. Mom's gonna kill me if she sees them at home. This is my fourth time forgetting them." He walked nervously, remembering how his mother had warned him to take care of his sunglasses. Once again, he had not. In a way, he was sad. He had promised to wear his favorite sunglasses after his karate classes that evening. Now his mother might be sad to not get her picture. He, once again, continued to walk. Nothing could be done about it now. He thought the breeze could calm him again, so he inhaled the coolness of the air around him. During his moment, he heard voices. He opened his eyes and scanned his surroundings, glancing at anything that could've made those noises. He noticed a young girl, standing up to a tree. To him, she was beautiful. He noticed her long, dark hair, and her amazing dress that only complimented her pretty little face. He almost continued walking, thinking she'd never like him anyways. Then, he noticed the sound he heard was not that of a young girl. It could not have been, it was too deep, angry, and loud. He turned again, a large boy, almost twice her size, was standing above her, towering her and covering her with his long shadow. The boy was holding up a small toy, one that was not that of a male liking. It was a pony, with brushable hair and legs that were unmovable. Not an action figure steed, to say the least. The large boy was holding it up, so high that the young girl would never be able to reach it, not even our bystander could fathom to reach that high. Yet, the girl jumped, and hopped, and begged to have her toy back. The large boy only laughed at her gesture.

It was now that the young boy, only watching before, had decided to take action. This kind of behaviour was not to be expected, especially to a girl. Even more so to a girl of her beauty, he thought. He walked up to the bully, keeping his eyes focused on his squared head. He shouted with concentration and as much masculinity as a 5th grader could muster, "Hey, give her back her toy!" The bully stopped laughing, and turned his head slowly, almost as if on a clock's hour hand. He looked down on the young boy, and smirked, "Yeah? What's a little piece of shit like you gonna do?" The young boy took this insult seriously, such language wasn't uncommon for students, especially the "bad kids", but he wasn't very keen to names he did not enjoy. He pulled back his fist, and punched the bully's stomach as hard as he could. Not even the slightest movement was noticed. The punch was hard, but not hard enough. The bully looked at the young boy, and grabbed him by his collar. He raised him as if he was Goliath, with one hand. The young boy had trouble breathing now, his collar was buttoned all the way up. As his face turned purple, his arms had loosened. He was near unconsciousness, close enough to see nothing but dark. The bully then threw the young boy away, as if he were garbage. The young boy landed with a thud, he inhaled harder than the slam he had felt. There was no way this bully was only that strong, it felt like nothing. Before the young boy could realize his doom, the bully stepped down on his back. He stomped over, and over, the sounds of pain growing stronger from the young boy with every pound. The bully slowed down, and stepped back. He laughed at the young boy, looking down at him, and enjoying the tears coming from the boy's face. The young girl, with all of her strength, ran up to the bully and repetitively slammed her fists into his back. This did less notice than the single punch the young boy did, but noticeable enough. The bully turned his back, and grabbed the girl by her hair. He lifted her by it's strands. Her tears were more than the young boy, which only satisfied the bully more. He threw her against the tree, her back striking the trunk of it. She fell with no grace, and landed on the dirt. The bully was walking up to her, and lifted his leg. He turned to the boy, "See what happens when you try to help?" He stomped, "People only get hurt more." He stomped. The girl's cries were severe, but the teachers were too far away to hear them. The young boy knew something had to be done, but he was too weak. He couldn't win no matter what he did…

...

No.

No he would not lose this easily. He could not be beaten so easily. He heard this message back and forth through his mind every time he heard the squeal of the girl. He got on his knee, pushing himself up, with every scream he heard, the stronger he became. He stared at the bully, tears down his cheeks, and his eyes glowing green. His vision turned to darker greens, he ran at the bully, pushing through the pain as if it was air. He screamed with anger, fury, and wrath. The bully turned around, grinned, and stood his ground. He stopped stomping, only to contain the impact. The young boy ran faster, and lifted his left leg. He screamed, "You son of a bitch!" as he slid across the dirt floor, a dark green glow flew with his movements, the impact was enough to knock the bully against the tree. The young boy stood back, and raised his knee. He jumped, raising his elbow and striking it against the bully's chin. He dragged the bully's body up the trunk of the large tree, with the same glow behind him. He jumped off the bully, and landed gracefully onto the floor beneath them. The bully fell face first into the dirt. He fell over, and passed out. The young boy had knocked the bully out, something nobody else could have ever done, his size or larger.

As he stared at his victim's body, he noticed a pair of sunglasses peeking out from the bully's pocket. The young boy took them as his own. He flipped them open, and wore them. A perfect fit. He smirked at the body, knowing he was the shit now. He turned to walk away dramatically, when he saw the girl standing there. She was barely up, as if she could collapse any moment. She stood in awe of what she had witnessed. The young boy noticed only now, of what he had just done. He looked back at the bully, and the long line leading to the tree from when he slid across it. He realized, that a sliding kick from this great a distance isn't possible. He then realized that jumping 15 feet into the air from a standing position, while carrying a large boy with your elbow, is also physically impossible. He turned back to the girl, who was damn near collapse, and once again realized that he felt no pain. His back should be completely shattered right now, his face should feel as if a shotgun had blown half of it off. He felt nothing except glory. By now the girl was collapsing, and the young boy ran to hold her up. She looked him in the face, still in absolute awe, and said, "You probably just saved my life, who are you, boy?"

The young boy looked back at the bully, still knocked completely out, and said, "Well, my friends call me Johnny." The girl tilted her head in confusion, "Johnny? You pull something like that and you have a regular name like...Johnny?" The boy had come to full realization of what he had just done, the sliding kick, the elbow jump, and the green in his vision, were not normal whatsoever. "Sorry, sometimes you just get normal names I guess." The boy said. The girl asked with humour, "Well, do you have a normal last name?" The boy looked at the girl, took off the shades, and stared into her eyes. He said only three words, "Cage. Johnny Cage."


	2. Chapter One

The ship I was taken on was a dark and damp vessel, one I happened to dislike. The quiet nights were only ruined by the constant splashing of water against the boat. I barely slept on my entire ride over there, worse than my flight to Bangladesh, and that's saying a lot. I decided the sickness I was attracting from the sea was too much for my stomach to handle, I went out onto the deck to throw up. Unpleasant but true, the headache was just too much to handle. While I was emptying my stomach over the side of the ship, I felt a presence on the deck with me. A hand pressed against my back, helping me let out the mess that was my digestive track. Whoever this was, he wasn't an enemy for sure. Thankfully so, I was scared when I was invited to this "cruise", because of how creepy everyone who invited me was acting. I was just at a coffee shop, drinking my sweet mint beverage, when a man dressed as if he was a Bruce Lee film villain came in. I was half expecting for the old man to jump out of nowhere and fight the guy, instead he scanned the room like an android and walked up to my table. "Can I help you, old man?" I asked confusingly. I thought the man wanted an autograph and a picture with his Chinese 007 cosplay. Instead, he sat down at my table. I was alone, so there was no real protest. He hands me this old looking letter, torn in some parts, and with Chinese writing on it. The man finally decides to make himself verbally known, despite barely breathing this whole time, "You have been chosen, Cage." I was confused, but slightly intrigued, I must admit. The man was old and looked crazy, I just looked at it and pretended that it was some mystical invitation for some tournament like, "Oh really? I thought only the best could enter!" I was saying it in a sarcastic enough tone to where I knew I was just playing along, but where he couldn't. The man was like 80 I thought he just went mad over time. Instead, he raised his eyebrow, "Strange," the man said, "I was told you did not know of the tournament."

This is where I started to get weirded out. I was just kidding, but maybe he was an improv actor looking for some help or something. By this point I was looking for any possible answer to what was going on. Even if it made no sense, if it was possible, I contemplated if it was true. The man turns the paper in my hand over, a symbol on it, dark in ink. A dragon, flame from its mouth entrapped within a circle. By this point it was obvious, either one. This man is insane. two. This man is a huge fan and wants to weird me out. Or three. Somebody is pulling a prank on me. I hope for the third. He tells me to go to some weird town in Hong Kong, a bay to leave to the tournament. I tell him, "Look, I'm tempted, but I'm a busy man. I can give you an autograph if you like." The man looks at me, stands up, and says, "I cannot let you refuse, Cage." I'm done with this guy by now, I get up to leave, and he flips me around! I land on my back, his arms holding me down. I was not expecting this old guy to be this agile. As I'm attempting to move around, he tells me, "You are of the best fighters in the world, now prove it." I get up, I'm tired of this man, but I accept his offer, I attempt to roundhouse kick his block off, old bastard ducked it before I even swung. I then attempted to jab at his fragile old ribs, he grabs my arm, dodges my attack, and throws me against the wall. He kicks my back hard enough for me to fall. He only looks at me, and says, "I know you can do more, more than any other fighter can do. Show me your true ability." I knew what he was talking about, I don't know how he knew but he knew. I haven't told anybody about my powers, literally nobody. The only people who know about those abilities are that little girl and that bully. I don't know why I still call them "bully" and "little girl", I just never knew their names. I stand up, I know what he means, so I decided right there, in the middle of the same coffee shop, mind you, I lift my left leg. I slide across the floor with my right leg, and my vision turned green. The old man took the blow entirely to the chest, he flew back against the wall. He only smirked at me, I knew this guy was insane, but I didn't know he was sadistic. He touched his palms together with open palms, all I saw was light, fast light, before I felt a powerful burning within my body all throughout. This was starting to get really scary. I got up, terrified of that blast again. I would take a bullet rather than that firey feeling within my soul anymore.

The man looked into my eyes, I was pondering kicking this guy's ass, but he pulled something I don't think I'll ever forget. He morphed, like a figurine of clay, and within a second, a mirror. I looked up not to see the face of the old crazed man, but my own. He grabbed my collar, pulled me up, and threw me at the opposite wall. I was completely out of reality by this point, this guy can shoot balls of like, fire from his hands, and can morph into other people? No realistic thoughts could possibly comprehend what I was witnessing, only the imagination of a dead or insane man could possibly fathom what I and everyone in that shop saw. I stood up, ready to absolutely beat the shit out of this old man. No more tricks. I jumped in the air, lifted my leg, and attempted an aerial kick. I've done it before, but I knew that he knew that I had powers beyond normal humans, so instead of using them, I merely just did a standard kick. I was shocked when he formed his hand into a cup, 'another fireball', I thought to myself. I couldn't be any more scared, the first one hurt so bad I thought I could possibly go insane just from the intense pains in my chest, legs, and face. No, no this was possibly worse. He formed a ball of green energy within his palm, and threw it from under his leg. It struck me in the face, I lost balance. I fell to the ground beneath him. I was done by this point, I just wanted some damn coffee.

After that out-of-nowhere move, the man turned back to himself. I looked up, he held out his hand, inviting me to grab it. I did so, either because my head hurt so bad I wasn't thinking, or I was just welcoming death. Instead of throwing me again or burning me alive, he just helped me up. For once something normal that day, thank goodness. I could barely stand, but the man slapped me on the back, "So, there are some things you haven't seen of yourself." the man said. I was in shock, what does this geezer know about me that I don't? He chuckled, saying to me, "I looked into your soul, boy. I know your capabilities. That ball of energy, that was your power." I looked shocked, this guy wasn't insane. I knew once he morphed his own figure to match my own, that he wasn't just some crazy old man. This guy was something beyond my own thinking, my own possible fathom. I knew that this guy wasn't some old guy from down the way anymore, I knew this guy was something else. He hands me the envelope again, I grab it without hesitation. This guy knows more about me than I know about myself, maybe if I go to this weird tournament, then maybe I can learn that power, or even more.

Reality comes back to me, I'm on the boat, still throwing up. The guy behind me is patting my back, still helping me. My body decides it's thrown enough bile out, and stops projectiling my inner juices out. I fall down, now hungry and sick. The man helps me up, and takes me into the ship. We go down the creaking steps, each screech of bending wood piercing my ears, making my sickness slightly worse with every step. We make it down, I'm too tired to move anymore. The man takes me to a booth, we sit down. I lay my head back on the soft booth, as if it was a pillow. I'm so relieved to have the chance to sit down again. The man tells me, "You threw up quite a bit there, what's your name?" I look at him, I'm in utter awe, this is like the first guy on this cruise to actually attempt to start an actual conversation. I look up from my tired mini nap, "Cage. My name's Johnny Cage." He places his elbows on the table, "My names Liu. Liu Kang, member of the Shaolin Monks and ally of Kung Lao." I would question this weird greeting with his 'shaulin monk' mumbo jumbo, but a few days ago, an old man shot fire from his hands. So saying that this guy wasn't a monk of special power would be hypocritical. All I could really say was, "Who's Kung Lao?" Liu went silent, as if it was like an insult. He raised his eyebrow, "You've never heard of Kung Lao? His name is legacy in the tournaments of Mortal Kombat." Ok now I'm confused, so I ask my new acquaintance, "What'...Mortal Kombat?"


End file.
